


Roses of a Once Golden City

by Moonwarrioryt



Series: Moon's One Shots [6]
Category: Original Work
Genre: Alternative Universe - Kingdom, Don't copy to another site, Fantasy, Fear of Death, Hey, Horses, Knights - Freeform, Minor Character Death, Roses, an original work!, and theres no description of it, its in the past, thats new from Moon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-18
Updated: 2019-11-18
Packaged: 2021-02-08 11:06:18
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,210
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21474979
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Moonwarrioryt/pseuds/Moonwarrioryt
Summary: "She turned, her cloak brushing the armour leg. But why was she brought here? Something told her to, the gale beckoned her within, so why-A sound behind her made the girl turn, only to stare amazing as well.. the armour's helmet stared back."A broken kingdom still needs protecting
Series: Moon's One Shots [6]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1401097
Comments: 2
Kudos: 3





	Roses of a Once Golden City

**Author's Note:**

> Oh wow, an original work! That's new
> 
> Ya so, over on my Tumblr I have this friend called Rose, and they made this post of 'if you lived your pfp life, how would it turn out, but they wrote a little prompt off of it, and I got inspired! So, this is for Rose :)
> 
> I wrote this in an hour and a half, so sorry for any spelling mistakes!
> 
> (And for context, for user is @rose-knightengale, and I drew they're pfp! It's a knights hand holding a yellow rose)

Clops of horse hooves hit broken concrete as the brown and white paint horse strode through broken streets, his rider glancing around watching poor, decaying buildings pass by. A simple ride through the forest had been the cabin homed girl's plan, be back in time to make supper for herself and her friend, and yet here she stood in the skeleton of a great kingdom center.

She stared up at the looming castle as she wondered why the urge continued her on, her soul carving an invisible path she only knew was there by thought. Nudging Cookie on, she couldn't help but wonder what happened to this wonderful kingdom. Something nagged at her mind, a distant memory from school long ago in the nearby village. History was never her strong point, always slipping off into her own imagination about what other worlds could hold, writing down these stories. In fact this was how she found her friend, another always distracted from history class as she doodled and wrote.

Cookie jolting to a halt shook her back to reality, the rider placing a hand to calm her steed. He stepped back, neighing and jittering, refusing to walk under the great castles shadow. She shushed him gently and rode him to a spot where grass had broken the concrete by great amounts, shifting off and tying the reins around a nearby fence poll, yet even that wasn't necessary for such a loyal steed.

Cookie gave off a thankful yet warning winny, yet her curiosity drove her forwards. She stepped within the shadows, the lowering sun now hidden as a frosty yet not unsettling wind curled around her rich purple cloak, a family cloak givin down generations to herself. Strange mysteries always held within the purple cloth, a color once held only by the royals. A magic aura surrounded it's body, and yet she seemed to be the only one to feel it's pulse of a protective feeling, as though safer just wearing.

She fidgeted with the gold string holding the two sides together, pulling the hood above her head as the wind beckoned her inside. She reached the doors, a familiar family flower decorated the ancient wood.

Oh

That's where she was

She hesitated, before reaching forward, sending a single knock across the wood. Nothing happened for moments, before suddenly a groan drowned the quiet air, the giant doors shivered before swinging slowly open.

She gulped, entering into the large room.

A broken crown caught her eye instantly, yet instincts and little facts told her not to touch it. That was the past high ruler's, commonly a king yet sometimes other, crown, yet because of the last toxic king was named the Crown of Thorns, spoken to be cursed to corrupt and kill whoever was not of hier. She walked around it, an uncomfortable feeling claimed her body as though protection was needed from it, as well as given. Given from something magic of her own.

She walked along the faded, ragged red rug, wild rose bushes climbing the walls just like the buildings outside, as though protecting them as well. She glanced up, her eyes spying two thrones. She was correct, this was it

The broken kingdom of Rosee.

A once prosperous kingdom four hundred years ago, well known for their knowledge of healing and nature magic, and the rare few of this world holding the magic of protection. They used potions and protected the lands, using peace as a strategy, yet deadly when no other option arose. True like its name, pretty and calm like the flower, yet thorns adorned for protection.

This was all true until the day a new king was crowned, a cursed king. He believed enemies of the kingdom must be destroyed, and when his people turned against this thought, he turned to evil magic. Evil magic was different than dark magic, the dark included shadows, evil included death. He created an army and fought the kingdoms of their world, ready for total control. Only once he was slain, peace regrow like buds from Winter to Spring. The old kingdom was abandoned, yet there was one memorable and honored object that stayed here.

She walked up between the throne pair, staring at the silver and rich purple armour. It looked as though it had been polished three times a day, the cleaning just ending as she walked up. It glinted with light as the setting sun ran through cracks and holes throughout the walls and ceiling, one arm reached out.

The Rose Knight armor, the armor of the knight who slayed the corrupt king, holding out a pure gold petaled rose sprouting from an emerald stem, a sign of hope. She reached up and brushed the pedestaled armour's chest plate, not a speck of rust nor dust came away, as though protected from wind and rain. She was probably the first to touch, nay _ see _ this wonderful armour in those four hundred years, the grounds never touched before.

She turned, her cloak brushing the armour leg. But why was she brought here? Something told her to, the gale beckoned her within, so why-

A sound behind her made the girl turn, only to stare amazing as well.. the armour's helmet stared  _ back _ .

Oh no, this was it. She touched it, a sacred magic object, and that was it, she would never see the world again. She- was being offered the rose?

She blinked as the golden rose was held delicately, the armour kneeling as it offered the jewel flower. Was she allowed?

Carefully, she reached forward and in a quick motion, plucked the fake flower from its hands.

The wind crashed into her body, the freezing air flipping her hood off and sending her hair flying. Her eyes widened as the rose bushes grew surrounding the room and walls. She looked back at the armor, which had stood and unsheathed its sword. She shivered, closing her eyes. Yet why did it feel so peaceful? The gale was cold, but a chill that woken her bones and flared her imagination like wood to a flame. The flowers that pursued the walls, the feeling of growth and nature knowing its rightful place. She opened her eyes, staring up at the armour. And a knight..

"And a knight protects" she whispered, instinctively backing up and falling to one knee, the rose gripped close to her chest. The shell stepped down as the wild roses calmed, crawling across the floor until the armor and she were surrounded.

"That is correct" a ghost of a whisper echoed throughout the hall, "and a knight keeps her kingdom standing." The sword dipped, touching each one of her shoulders

"Welcome back, our Rose Knight. Bring back the kingdom, keep our buildings standing. Replant our seed, and bring back our bud."

The golden rose throbbed a comforting warmth across her hand as the knight returned back to its pedestal, the rose vines crept back to its original state. She stood, as one last echo whispered around the room

"Bring us back to Spring, Rose."

Rose exited the castle, untying Cookie and sweeping gracefully onto his saddle, the golden rose tucked behind her ear.

Did she has a story to tell Moon when she got back.


End file.
